I apologize to my friends who check this blog to see what's going on with the L.A. transplant. January was so busy for me that it remains a blur of activity. How does that happen in such a small town and in the dead of winter? February introduced me to something I have never experienced before: Bronchial Pneumonia. I never want to be introduced to that again. It knocked me flat, and every time I coughed, it felt like red hot metal ball bearings were rolling around in my chest. Ugh. Ugh. There are a couple of bugs ravaging this area that were not covered in any of the usual flu and pneumonia immunizations that many of us received at the start of winter. My oldest daughter, Eva Marie, went down with the flu in February even though she had a flu shot in November. Almost everybody I talk to tells me that at least two members of their family were down with it.

Sickness aside, winter is on its way out but it ain't leaving without a fight. Generally everything is warmer and the snow is all gone. Saturday, March first, the temperature in Alma, Nebraska, was 74 degrees. Wow, that felt good. Sunday the high temperature was 44 with wind and rain. Today it is dry, but there is wind and cold air. This morning the time and temperature sign on the bank told me that at 9:00 AM it was 24 degrees downtown. Those who have lived East of California know that March is a month for battle between the departing and incoming seasons, but generally the trend is toward warmer weather.

I just want it to be warm enough long enough to melt all the ice on the banks of Harlan County Lake and the Republican River so I can cast my line into the waters. My freezer is empty of fish and that just isn't the way things are supposed to be.

The walking trail by the lake is snow and ice free and I walked it three times last week. Boy, my legs are out of shape. The scenery on the walk is rather stark, since none of the trees have new leaves yet. I looked closely at the ends of the some of the lower branches of a couple of trees and you can see the new growth that will soon be putting out the Spring greenery.

In the mornings now, I hear birds singing when I open my eyes and try to find the courage to get out of bed. I have always read that when Red Breasted Robins show up, you know that winter is gone. Well, the Robins are everywhere but it's still pretty cold out there today and for the rest of the week. The weekend, though, looks to be much warmer.

In the middle of the month, I am going to a nature preserve on the Platte River to watch the Sandhill Cranes. Those cranes are on their way north to Canada, Alaska and Siberia, but every spring they stop on the Platte for about a month to eat and gain strength for the rest of the journey. Approximately 600,000 of them, plus a few of the rare and endangered Whooping Cranes, will spend their nights in the safety of the sandbars of the Platte, then take off in the morning to feed in the many fields in the area. They return at dusk to the Platte for their evening snooze. The Rowe Sanctuary has built viewing blinds where we can stand unseen and peer through the cutouts to watch these magnificent birds and take pictures. No flash photography is permitted as it tends to frighten the cranes. Since the viewing will take place while the sky is still rather gray and the sun is just coming up, we'll have to use a very fast film, so I'm going to get some ASA800 film on my next foray into Kearney. We are told that by the time sun is up and the sky is bright, most of the cranes will have flown off to their feeding grounds.

One of the townspeople who knows told me to mark my calendar on the date that is three weeks before Easter. That, he says, is when the fish that spawn move out of the lake and into the river. Walleye, largemouth bass, white bass and a few stripers will be there for the taking. That date is next Saturday, March 9. I'm armed and ready.